Progress Report: I Am Missing You To Death
by joannacamilley
Summary: Drabbles of moments in Delena's life, both during the show and after. Chapter 3: Damon introduces ice cubes in a whole new way to Elena.
1. Gravy

**A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it! This is the first drabble in a series that I'll be posting. Some will be more steamy than others, it really just depends on what I feel like writing/if people send me prompts.**

* * *

"Damon, you can't put gravy on the green beans!"

It was their first Thanksgiving together as humans and Damon's first human Thanksgiving in over 200 years.

"I can put gravy wherever I want to," he informed Elena while pouring almost half of the container of gravy on his plate.

"Gravy is specifically meant for the turkey and mashed potatoes. You should know; weren't you there for the first Thanksgiving?" she asked with wide innocent eyes.

Damon narrowed his eyes at her. Instead of putting the gravy back on the table, he put a dollop on her cheek. "Oops, I guess gravy isn't supposed to go there either. Guess I can't lick it up then."

He turned away but just as he predicted, Elena pulled him back to her by his arm. Not able to resist anymore, his smooth lips landed gently on her cheek, making her sigh. He slowly gathered the gravy up on his tongue before giving her soft kisses across her face. He jumped to the other side once he ran out of space, giving it the same treatment. Just as he was about to plant one on her highly anticipated lips, he pulled back.

"Now, can I put gravy on whatever I want?" he asked with a smirk.

In retaliation, Elena stuck her finger in the gravy and smeared it across his lips. "As long as I get the same deal," she purred before claiming his lips as her own.

The gravy was soon long gone and they hungrily devoured each other. Damon stood up with her legs wrapped around his waist and carried her upstairs, the Thanksgiving dinner completely forgotten about.


	2. Studying

**A/N: For all of you currently dealing with finals like I am... If only I had someone to distract me from studying ;)**

* * *

"Damon…" Elena whined as he showered kisses over her shoulder again. "I'm trying to study."

"You already know all this stuff," he murmured against her shoulder, unwilling to lift his lips up from her skin.

"A lot has changed since I was last in college," she grumbled, trying to find her place in the anatomy textbook. "I mean, if they knew about all these neural connections 60 years ago, Alzheimer's would be a lot less devastating and- oh!"

Damon had tightened his hands around her waist and picked her up from the table.

"Put me down!" she struggled to get out through her laughs.

"I love when you talk nerdy to me," he growled into her ear, nipping the lobe.

"Damon, I have to study!" She was quickly losing her resolve, though, when he laid her down on the bed and gazed at her with his sexy smirk. He _knew_ how the way his lip twitched up in one corner made her panties wet and he was using it to his advantage.

"Don't worry," he assured her while his eyes burned through her clothes. "You'll have time to study. Tomorrow."

Before she could protest again, he was on her, his lips melding with hers. They both knew it was over when she flipped them over so she was astride him and quickly tossed her shirt to the side.

"Make it fast," she said breathlessly.

"Honey, this is going to take _all_ night."

Damon made true to his word and Elena didn't complain the rest of the day.


	3. Ice

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Elena jumped as he first pressed it to the skin right below her collarbone. He dragged the ice cube slowly, slowly over the curve of her breast. It circled dangerously around the bulls-eye, making her quiver with anticipation. Finally, Damon gently rested it on her nipple. It immediately pebbled, raising the cube and leaving a watery trail behind as it melted.

"Damon," she gasped at the sensation, but he just covered her lips with a finger. She desperately wanted to see him, see how he looked as he tortured her so deliciously slowly, see if his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip, see if he had an ever growing bulge in his pants from having her right where he wanted her. His hands held her wrists down, loosely but authoritatively, prevented her from ripping the blindfold off (made from his tie) so she could see everything she wanted and more. She knew if she _really_ wanted to, she could wretch her arms free and he wouldn't stop her, but that would ruin all of the fun.

The cube made its way down her torso, making her stomach tense and twitch as the cold sensation seeped deep into her skin. He kept pulling it lower and lower until she held a baited breath. He didn't stop; it ran further down to her most sensitive spot. She couldn't contain the gasp and jerk of her lower body as he made it do laps around her clit, never touching but close enough for the temperature difference to mess with her. He continued this a few times until suddenly he sucked everything into his mouth, her bundle of nerves included.

She tightly clutched his hair in her hands while he ran his tongue smoothly over her. Part of it was cold from the ice still in his mouth while the other part was warm as usual. The difference made moans fall out of her mouth and her legs wrapped around his shoulders. He curled his hands around her outer thighs, keeping her to him as if it would kill him if she pulled away. She knew this was his favorite part, making her fall apart with nothing more than his talented tongue. Even if they did nothing else for the rest of the night, he would still be satisfied because it would be his name coming out of her lips.

Speaking of, she couldn't stop chanting his name as if she was trying to summon a god down to earth. The more she tried to hold it in, the louder it would come out and the harder he would press on her clit. But every time she could practically taste her orgasm, he would pull away, change his rhythm and pressure, do anything to frustrate her beyond relief. It was torture; sweet, sweet torture, but torture nonetheless.

After one too many orgasms missed, Elena gripped his hair forcefully and pressed his face into her. He would have no option but to finish her off now. He knew when she got this demanding, this frustrated, that she was precariously close to losing control and _he loved it_.

Ice cube long gone, Damon went to town on her. He pulled out all his tricks, all the flicks, twirls, and sucking that he knew really got her going, even after all this time. Her hips grinded against his face, creating even more friction and making her toes curl. He could barely hear anything with the way her thighs tightly squeezed around his ears, muffling everything in the room, but even a deaf man could hear the way Elena was moaning like a woman possessed.

"Yes! Yes! Right there!" Her voice was hoarse as her heartbeat jumped up into her throat, the anticipation of the end almost too much. This prompted him to pull out his last trick – three flicks followed by a strong suck – to ensure she would fall over the edge.

And over the edge did she fall. Her body tensed, rising up off the bed while pressing her even harder against Damon's mouth. Her lips were parted in a silent scream as pleasure rolled through her body in waves. Eventually she sunk back down, decompressing and desperately trying to catch her breath.

She felt Damon move away but didn't have the energy to take off the blindfold to see where he went. Then she felt his weight dipping the bed until he was hovering above her. He swiped the blindfold off and she opened her eyes lazily. He was gazing down at her, his eyes deep and stormy with lust and desire. She could feel his hardness against her thigh. But he did nothing for that.

"So," he finally said, breaking his silence from the past half hour. "Was I right? Ice cubes _are_ sexy."

Elena laughed. Of course this is what he was thinking about the entire time. "You're right, Damon," she whispered, making him give his famous smirk. "Maybe we should get a bucket full of them. You haven't explored my whole body yet like you said you would."

He was gone before she could finish the sentence.


	4. Coffin

Damon couldn't help the smile that made the corners of his lips curve up. Yes, both corners. Everything he needed was right in his arms. His chin rested on the top of her perfect little head. The flowery fragrance of her shampoo invaded his nose and he couldn't think of anything that smelled better. This was his home.

"Are you just going to creepily sniff my hair or are you going to tell me what we're going to do?" Her sweet, sweet voice was just as smoothly raspy as he remembered it.

"It's not creepy," he shrugged, pulling her closer to him for a tighter cuddle. "It's romantic."

"You keep telling yourself that," she rolled her eyes before letting out a laugh. After it died down, there was a short silence before she broke it again. "You know this isn't real though, right?" she said somberly.

Damon opened his eyes for the first time. He was lying in his bed, sunshine pouring in through the window, and Elena looking up at him with the same doe eyes he dreamed about seeing again for months. "What do you mean? Of course this is real."

"You're desiccating, waiting for me to wake up."

"No." He furrowed his eyebrows. "You're here with me."

Elena slowly shook her head with a sad smile gracing her face. "I didn't wake up yet. That's why you're going to wait in your own coffin for me to come back."

"How am I seeing you here now then?"

"We're in your subconscious. It's not actually me, I won't know about any of this once we both wake up."

Damon was quiet for a while. "Even if this isn't real, this is still the best moment I've had in the past year. Except maybe when I found out I didn't actual burn you alive because that saved me an eternity of self hatred."

"Aren't you worried about leaving Stefan out there with that woman who's hunting him?" Elena turned over so she was on her stomach.

"The Armory has her, he'll be safe for a while. Besides, I'm usually the one who stirs up trouble, he'll be fine 60 years Damon-free."

"What about Ric? Bonnie? Tyler? Matt? You're just going to leave them behind?"

"One, half of those people you listed are worth less than dirt under my shoe. Two, I did say goodbye… in some eloquently written letters."

Elena's hand made quick, painful contact with his chest. "You didn't even say bye to them in person?"

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in enough so she couldn't see the tears starting to flood his eyes. "I can't." His voice was suspiciously choked up. "I can't think about anything else other than seeing you again."

Her head nodded as she relaxed against his chest. "I might not actually be me right now, but you know that the hardest part of all of this is being away from you."

"We'll start over when we both wake up," he promised, giving the top of her head a kiss. "We're in New York right now, it shouldn't be too hard to find a cozy apartment above a bar."

"And then you'll take the cure from me?"

Damon nodded. "And then I'll take the cure. Then we'll live out the rest of our human lives together." He intertwined their fingers and rubbed his thumb along a specific one. "We'll have to make this official, though. I know you're not the real Elena, but nothing would make me happier than you being my wife."

She chuckled but he felt a tear roll off her face and onto his shirt. "And nothing would make me happier than you being my husband." She leaned up, her dark hair cascading around them, covering their faces in darkness.

Their lips met gently at first and it was just as he remembered it, the brief hesitance on her end before she went in fully passionate. He turned them over so she was cradled under his arms. This was perfect. This was where he wanted to be forever. Just him and his girl for as long as they both may live.

But none of it was real.

His veins were screaming as his eyes popped open. He could barely see, either from being locked inside a coffin or no blood supply to his eyes, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was the intense hunger that filled every nerve in his body. He could feel his heart trying to pump what little blood he had left in him but it was running out. He would've cried out if he had any control of his movements other than his eyelids.

As torturous as this was, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Every second, he was getting closer to being with his love again. He had literally been through hell and back before. He could endure this as long as Elena was the light at the end of the tunnel.

* * *

 **A/N: I only wrote this because dearelena (or whatever the fuck Grace will call herself in the future) told me to write a Delena fic and this chapter came out. Obviously based on 7x15. Gave me some feels.**


End file.
